


Secret

by TheRavenintheMoon



Series: Long Lost Souls [12]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Winter Veil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:25:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRavenintheMoon/pseuds/TheRavenintheMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They planned to meet up once a year, at least, all together, just to stay in touch. This year is different. One of them is hiding something...and the others don't quite know what to say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I probably own nothing, except maybe my characters. I know that Blizzard, however, owns a small chunk of my soul...
> 
> This is a sort of lead-in to a longer story, also to be a part of this series, that I have in the works. Posting this is supposed to be incentive to get a move on writing the longer one...
> 
> Also, this was written back when you still needed to buy runes to be able to teleport...not that not needing to buy them isn't nice...it just wasn't a convenient change for this particular story.

**_Secret_ **

**_Dindrane and Khereth_ **

Hravn sat on the roof of the building she and her friends ostensibly lived in, swinging her feet over the edge and petting the snowy gryphon that had settled beside her. It was raining gently, but Hravn didn’t mind. She’d been out in far worse. She began to hum to herself, a festive tune for Winter Veil. The others would be arriving shortly. They’d all agreed to meet up at least once a year to, you know, gather all the friendly faces and eat too much gingerbread and catch up on the news from far-flung adventures and all that sort of thing.

Ellinaer was the first to arrive, her large warhorse ponderously climbing the ramp up to the flat. A disgruntled Merlayne, reining in her flaming felsteed, followed the paladin. Hravn was sure that Ellinaer had gone searching for Merlayne, just to make sure the warlock actually came. As Hravn stood, reaching for her gryphon’s reins, she saw Vermyllion materialize at the base of the portal from the docks at Rut’theran. Smiling, Hravn glided down into the flat to wait for her sister.

A few minutes later, just as Vermyllion crossed the bridge, Sophrynia and Jana flew up from the Howling Oak, and landed neatly in the flat, brandishing packages of cookies. The cozy flat was pretty full now, with laughter and the scent of gingerbread. Crystabel turned up not long after Jana, promising that Kherieth would be there shortly with both cider and hot chocolate. Merlayne, disliking all the hugging, used the rogue’s entrance as an excuse to retreat into a corner and scowl.

Periell arrived last, with her bright smile and her usual apology for being late. Jana, in charge of the cookie plate, waved a gingerbread gnome under the shaman’s nose. Periell reached for it, but Jana, grinning, said, “Tell us where you’ve been, and you get a cookie.” Periell was more than willing to take the bribe.

“I’ve been sunbathing,” she announced promptly. “Because it’s so very seasonal.”

Merlayne cut across the laughter with a sudden sharp question. “Where’s Dindrane? She’s normally the first one here, making bad jokes.”

The other eight adventurers glanced around, but Merlayne was right: the mage was nowhere to be seen. “I don’t know,” Hravn said slowly. “She hasn’t been around lately.”

The others shrugged, or shook their heads. Vermyllion shifted uncomfortably. “Ever since, well…” she stopped.

Ellinaer winced, hating the unfinished sentence. “What?” she asked.

Myllion shrugged. “Well, I heard she was dead. And then she wasn’t. But she’s been gone a lot, ever since she came back from wherever she was being not-dead.”

Sophrynia nodded, gesturing at Jana. “We were killing ogres in Feralas, and ran into her collecting…Khadgar’s whisker, I think it was. But she teleported out after we’d cleared up the ogres. I have no idea where she went.”

Hravn took another cookie, and said, mouth full, “I know she’s been teleporting a lot lately. Alaindia, who sells the runes, she told me Dindrane’s been through quite a few.”

Jana frowned. “Well, we’ve all been in and out, so we know she’s not coming here. That leaves one of the other cities…”

But without further evidence, they really couldn’t figure it out. So they passed the cookies around again, and swapped stories of the past few months. Quite some time later, they all jumped (except for Merlayne, who had been staring out over the city, bored) when Dindrane’s gryphon landed with a thump.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “I didn’t realize what day it was.”

She was engulfed in a series of hugs, everyone waving off her apology. Except Merlayne, who rolled her eyes and asked, “Where have you been?”

Dindrane blinked, glanced away. “Shadowmoon Valley,” she said shortly. And indeed, there was some rather nasty blackish-greenish muck crusted on a new pair of boots. But Crystabel’s critical hunter’s eye noticed that the stains on the mage’s robes were several days old, and she pointed this out. Dindrane shrugged. “The Netherwing can fly, and their home is mostly rock, not mud. It’s just getting to them… Anyway, how is everyone?”

Sensing that the mage wanted to change the subject, Merlayne pointedly said, “We heard that you were dead. In Kalimdor. So you haven’t been in Outland all this time.”

Dindrane stared at her coldly. “You heard wrong.”

And no amount of questioning could get her to say what had happened. She was more than willing to chat about the heat in Un’Goro this time of year, to ask after some of their other friends, to laugh at their anecdotes, and to listen warmly to long, drawn-out accounts of adventures. She was even willing to talk about Shadowmoon, and the raging elementals that were swamping the place, though they felt that she was holding something back. But she was careful not to answer the questions they really wanted answered; she wouldn’t tell them why she had vanished all those months ago, and she wouldn’t say where she disappeared to now.

Dindrane was the first to leave, as well, feigning a headache. They let her go. No one had ever detained Dindrane against her will.

Hravn frowned as the afterglow of the mage’s teleport faded. Looking up at the others, she said, “You know, I think she’s hiding something.” But for the life of them, they couldn’t figure out what it was.

∞

A world away, Dindrane materialized in the central hub of Shattrath. No one questioned her sudden appearance. They were used to her comings and goings. Privacy was hard to find in the busy city. She nodded a greeting to a few of the Aldor standing around, soaking in, for just a moment, the calm of the Naaru. Then she mounted her gryphon, and flew out and up, quickly passing the hills and soaring out over Nagrand. She had an appointment to keep.

Halfway to Telaar, another gryphon approached. The rider was a lavender-skinned, dark-haired draenei shaman, who lifted a hand in greeting. Dindrane waved in reply, and the two silently wheeled their mounts and flew up to one of the larger chunks of floating ground that peppered the sky. They dismounted in tandem, letting the gryphons go. It would be a while before they were needed. The two heroes, craving silence, had found no place more private than the skies of Nagrand.

“Dindrane,” the shaman said quietly, turning to her with a smile.

“Khereth,” she grinned, closing the distance between them and wrapping her arms around him. For a long moment, they stood still, holding each other. He eventually pulled away.

“How was the party?” he asked, rich voice quiet.

She flushed. “I forgot. I got there really late. But other than that, it was fine.”

He nodded, not sure what to say when she didn’t elaborate. Sniffing slightly, she found a soft patch of grass and dropped to the ground, her cloak spilling around her as she sprawled on her back, head tilted to watch the shimmering streams of light play across the deep blue night sky. Much more slowly and gracefully, Khereth lay down beside her.

“It’s beautiful, no?” he asked. She hummed in agreement. “Strange,” he added, “that such beauty should be found here…”

Dindrane didn’t say anything, but after a moment, she let her hand drift so that she could twine her fingers with his. He sniffed in surprise, but did not pull away. He found he didn’t mind, when they were up here, under a shining sky where nothing but the stars could see them. Glancing at her, a rare smile lighting her face, he was glad that they hadn’t said anything to anyone yet. It was their little secret.


End file.
